


Fading Blooms

by Kita_the_Spaz



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iruka has been stuck, disguised as an attendant, at the Hanakotoba Onsen for three weeks, waiting for his mission target to show. However, when he does show, things start going downhill from there. Add in one copy-nin and things go from bad to worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fading Blooms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radkoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radkoko/gifts).



> This was supposed to be silly fluff, but once my prankster-Iruka-muse got hold of it, he decided that he was going to consider it a chance to prank the hell out of the bad guys. So, yeah, as I told the mods-- fluff jumped ship. But hey, there's still an onsen...

It was a cold autumn day, the clouds hanging low in an overcast sky and dimming the colors of the fallen leaves piled in drifts around the stout stone walls of the Hanakotoba Onsen.

Umino Iruka stared out at the dulled world beyond the thick glass windows that were beaded with moisture from the hot waters of the natural hot springs the Hanakotoba was built upon. Three weeks he’d been posing as a bath attendant here— three long, dull weeks during which the most exciting thing that had happened was the snake, lured in by the warmth, that had scared the living daylights out of half the staff. Iruka had captured the poor thing and set it loose outside with the tiniest of warming jutsu on it; to keep it alive long enough to find a different place to weather out the cold season.

His target, the information broker who used this place to meet clients had _yet_ to show, and despite his training, Iruka’s store of patience was nearly exhausted. He often took missions during breaks at the academy, but this one had dragged on past the beginning of the term. He hated to think of the damage he’d have to correct when he returned. No substitute was up to the task of dealing with the troublemakers and prodigies that were inevitably lumped together in Umino Iruka’s classroom.

“Suisen.” The sound of his cover name snapped Iruka out of his maunderings.

“Yes, obaasan?” Iruka rose quickly and sketched a rapid bow to the weathered old woman who ran the onsen.

She shoved a stack of towels at him. “Prepare the Wisteria Suite and set up the private bath for a guest. Be sure to stop by the kitchens on the way and have Yuri be prepared to provide a meal.”

Iruka bowed again and took the towels from her. His stomach twisted with anticipation. Maybe things were finally going his way. Murasaki Eiji, his target, always rented the Wisteria Suite during his business transactions.

Iruka stopped at the kitchens and passed on the message before hurrying to prepare the lovely suite of rooms and the adjoining private bathing pool. He had just finished replenishing the bath supplies and stacking towels when the door opened. Ajisai, the formidable matron of the bathhouse, bowed a group into the suite.

The first two men were obviously security, openly wearing several weapons each on their persons. Their chakra levels pegged them as shinobi-trained, probably chuunin level. The next man in was a richly dressed civilian, with a thin blade of a face and hair pulled up into a severe topknot that made his sharp features appear far too long.

Iruka continued to prepare the room, keeping his head politely down. He would do nothing to betray the fact that his heart raced. _Finally!_

After Murasaki came two of his personal servants, thin, tired-looking women who seemed as though the spark of life in them had been beaten out. Iruka knew they belonged to families who had been former enemies of the information broker. When he had broken his enemies with ruthless precision, he had forced the women into roles that were little better than bound slaves. He could not afford pity, but he knew if he had a way to allow the women their escape, he would take it.

Behind them was another woman, wearing silk robes and with her cyan hair piled in an impressive style and held in place by wakizashi fashioned of gold and precious gems. Hundreds of tiny golden bells chimed as she walked. Iruka’s intelligence had named her as Murasaki’s mistress, Yadorigi. Information on her had been thin at best, and Iruka did not trust the too-sharp look in her gray-green eyes.

She was followed by two more obvious security, these two staggering bruisers with chakra levels comparable to a genin. Then again, with muscles like those, who needed chakra enhancement?

Satisfied, Iruka slipped out the door behind the matron and hurried back to the rest of his cover’s duties, his mind whirling with plans.

Murasaki was here to deal with Rytou Ranmaru, a low-level broker who claimed to have gotten his hands on some truly devastating information that would be worth more than gold to the right buyer. If Iruka could obtain the information he had as well as what he intended to get out of Murasaki, he would consider that a bonus. If not, the information Rytou had would die with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, one of the bath attendants, a sweet young girl named Tsubaki, caught Iruka’s sleeve. “Suisen, can you help me? I need to get the Hyacinth room ready for a guest and I’m already running late because of Kigiku’s antics. She spilled an entire bottle of jasmine oil into one of the tubs and I had to help her scrub out the whole thing.”

Iruka crooked a smile at her and rose to his feet. “Of course.”

Still complaining about Kigiku, Tsubaki hurriedly grabbed supplies from storage and loaded up both of their arms.

The Hyacinth room was much smaller than the suite of rooms Iruka had prepared earlier, and did not have its own private bath; it opened on one of the larger bathing pools. It took them hardly any time at all to ready it, but they were still packing up their things when another attendant led a group of three into the room.

Iruka had to control a twitch when he realized the thin, nervous man in the lead was Rytou Ranmaru. He hurriedly ducked his head and returned to gathering up his cleaning supplies before any of them could see him stare.

A hand caught Iruka’s arm and pulled him flush against a muscular chest. “Hello, pretty,” purred a masculine voice in his ear. Restraining himself from giving away his shinobi training by disabling the handsy stranger, Iruka spread his palms against firm pectorals and shoved himself away.

He looked up into a weathered face with a series of jagged scars running down the left side of it and the eye on that side hidden behind a black eyepatch. Raven-wing black hair had bold streaks of white at each temple and the single dark eye curved up in a surprisingly familiar smile.

“What? You don’t remember me, lovely? I’m shocked,” the scarred man went on. “And after all that time we spent together.”

It wasn’t until the faintest touch of chakra tingled against his palm, that Iruka could place that familiarity. He gaped and had to keep himself from blurting out the damning name of the man in front of him.

“Is it really you?” he managed, lifting hesitant fingers to trace the jagged scars. “You look so different than the last time I saw you.”

In all his disguised glory, Hatake Kakashi gave Iruka that same curved eye smile. “I was careless,” he touched Iruka’s fingers on his cheek, tracing field sign for _later_ on the back of his hand. “Got too cocky and let someone get too close. But ol’ Kenji’s not gonna die so easily.”

“Old Kenji can flirt on his own time,” came the sour voice of Rytou, who glared at Kakashi. “I’m paying you to protect me, not waste your time on bathhouse whores.”

Kakashi whirled to face Rytou, fists clenched and shoulders tensed. “I know what yer payin’ me for, but don’t be callin’ my girl a whore!”

Rytou actually flinched back. “Fine, but save your sweet nothings until you are off duty.”

Kakashi relaxed and turned back to pat Iruka’s cheek, “Sorry, love, looks like duty calls. You still get off at seven?”

“Eight tonight. I have clean-up duties this week.” Iruka smiled brightly, puzzling over what on earth had brought a disguised Kakashi out here. Was his mission compromised?

“Ach, I’ll be swappin’ shifts with Mugin at nine; he’s got night duty.” Kakashi returned the grin, indicating the third man with a casually cocked thumb. 

“Meet me in the kitchen, then,” Iruka told him. “I’ll get us some dinner.”

“Good gal. What would I do without ya?”

“Starve to death,” Iruka retorted, gathering up his supplies and following Tsubaki out of the room.

Tsubaki pounced on him as soon as they were out of earshot, demanding details of his relationship with Kenji. Iruka quickly fabricated a story, keeping mental notes to share it with Kakashi later and still wondering what the copy-ninja was doing here.

And he had to wait for those answers until after nine. _Dammit!_

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kakashi wandered into the kitchens about twenty minutes after nine. Iruka was waiting for him at one of the trestle tables the onsen staff ate at with two bowls of hearty stew and a sliced loaf of brown bread. It was another five minutes before he could escape the well-meaning attentions of Iruka’s coworkers. He carefully dodged any of the questions concerning how they met, knowing that without knowing what Iruka had told them, he could compromise both of their covers. Finally he managed to escape them with a promise that he’d tell them the whole story later if only they gave him a little time to get reacquainted with his girl.

“Hello, pretty,” he greeted Iruka, sliding onto the bench next to him and deliberately covering Iruka’s hand with his own.

Iruka manufactured a blush. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“I stopped keepin’ count, lovey.” Kakashi tapped a short code against Iruka’s skin. _Cover intact?_ “You’ll have to keep tellin’ me every time I see ya.”

Iruka huffed aloud and nodded in clear response to the question. “No doubt, since you’ll never get it through that stubborn head of yours.” 

“Ach, you wound me, love. And here I came all the way here to see yer smilin’ face.” Kakashi tapped the code for privacy.

“Liar,” Iruka chided with a smile. “You came with someone.”

Kakashi waved his free hand carelessly, though he tightened his fingers warningly on Iruka’s wrist. “Ah, he was afraid of bandits and hired me to escort him. The pay’s good and when he told me where he was headed, well, how could I resist the chance to come see my sweet little flower?”

Iruka ducked his head. “You softy. Come to see your flower, indeed. You just want me to look after you.”

“Now what man wouldn’t wanna be looked after by such a pretty little thing? But if it’s looking after yer wantin’—” Kakashi leered, lifting an eyebrow.

Iruka’s blush this time was real, coloring not only his cheeks but his whole face and the tips of his ears. “A-are you going to eat first?”

“Mmm— if we take it somewhere a bit more private than here, we kin feed each other...” Kakashi let his voice trail off suggestively, trailing the fingers of his free hand over the reddened skin on Iruka’s face.

The next sound that emerged from Iruka’s lips could only be termed a squeak.

The woman Iruka had earlier introduced as Yuri laughed and flapped her apron at them. “Oh, Suisen, you two go on and get it out of your systems. But don’t think this lets you off the hook. You’re telling us all about how the two of you met later.”

With a muttered and embarrassed agreement, Iruka rose to his feet, bowed to the kitchens at large, and scooping up the bowls and the plate of bread, led Kakashi away.

When the door to Iruka’s tiny little room had closed behind them, Iruka set the food down and turned to glare at Kakashi. “Was all that necessary? While I appreciate you not compromising my cover, did you have to let everyone think we’re lovers?” he hissed, keeping his voice low.

Kakashi glanced around and nodded to himself; probably a good idea. The walls looked thin enough that normal conversation could be easily overheard. “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” he temporized, gratefully dropping the accent and keeping his voice no more than a whisper. “Besides, they’ll be more likely to leave us alone if they think we’re doing the horizontal tango in here.”

Iruka glared, face still red. “You...” He stopped himself and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long exhale. The flush faded from his cheek slowly.

It was too bad, Kakashi had always liked seeing Iruka flustered. It was why he consistently annoyed him in the mission room.

Having calmed himself, Iruka sat himself down cross-legged at the head of the bed, cradling his bowl. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Kakashi dropped down on the foot of the bed, watching Iruka juggle his bowl to keep the stew from spilling. “I was still in character from my mission when Rytou offered me a job, escorting him. As a mercenary, I couldn’t very well turn-down what was a very well paying job. I figured, escort him partway and then just vanish in the middle of the night somewhere. But then I overheard who he was meeting and figured I could afford an extra day or two on the off chance I might be able to find out something interesting.”

Iruka made a face down at his bowl. “They’ve set a meeting up for tomorrow evening. I managed to swap shifts with Tsutsuji so I’ll be serving sake during the meeting. I was planning on slipping into Murasaki’s suite after the meeting and getting the information.”

“Why after the meeting? Why not during the meeting?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka looked up with a wry smile. “Because there’s no other way. What Murasaki knows he keeps in his head, at least until it’s time to sell it. None of our operatives have been able to get close enough to find out where he keeps the documentation. He goes into the meeting empty-handed, and whoever he’s selling to comes out with the info and hard copy. He’s never agreed to sell to one of Konoha’s agents. Whether his information is just that good or what, we don’t know, but I’m to find out.”

“Why you? Wouldn’t a Yamanaka be more suited to the task if it requires getting inside his head?” Kakashi wrinkled his brow in concern.

Iruka shook his head. “He’s spotted Yamanakas before they even get within city borders. Maybe I can’t pick his brain apart like they can, but I know a few tricks. And whether or not I get the info, I’m to make sure he’s no longer a threat.”

Kakashi started. “An assassination mission? You?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Kakashi-san. I am a fully trained shinobi,” Iruka fixed him with a sour look.

Kakashi back-pedaled. “I just mean assassinations are Class A missions. Those are usually taken by Jounin.” 

It wasn’t a graceful out and Iruka certainly didn’t seem impressed. “If I didn’t know better than to get annoyed at you for the sheer stupidity of what you just said, I’d put you through the wall right now. I’m a chuunin for a reason, and it doesn’t take rank to be the knife in the dark that ends a man’s life.”

“I di—”

Iruka cut him off with a raised hand, head up and alert.

Kakashi listened and heard what had alerted Iruka. Whispering female voices, interspersed with giggles, moving closer to their location.

“Dammit.” Iruka growled. Glaring at Kakashi, he pitched his voice higher and moaned breathily. “O-ooh, do that again...”

Kakashi got the idea immediately, and picking up his false accent again, pitched in. “Heh, liked that, didja? Let’s see if ya like this one.”

Iruka transferred his glower to the door as the whispering voices stopped, leaving only the stifled giggling. He moaned again, setting his bowl on the bedside table.

Kakashi couldn’t resist. Leaning over, he breathed into the shell of Iruka’s ear.

Iruka’s moan spiraled up an octave and he clapped a hand to his adulterated ear, fastening wide eyes on Kakashi.

Kakashi chuckled low in his throat. “Guess ya did like that.”

Iruka’s frown grew, and he fixed a challenging gaze on Kakashi. “Oh shut up and kiss me, you ass.”

“Yer wish is my command,” Kakashi growled in a sultry tone. And leaned forward to do just that, taking advantage of Iruka’s open-mouthed surprise.

Iruka made an undignified sound, his hands coming up to shove against Kakashi’s chest. But after a moment, he relaxed into the kiss, fingers fisting in the linen of Kakashi’s shirt.

It was only when they heard the giggling move away that Iruka shoved back hard on Kakashi.

Kakashi let himself be pushed, watching Iruka’s expression.

Iruka’s cheek were flushed with high color that had spread down his throat and under the collar of his gray yukata. His eyes were wide and glassy, pupils expanded until the irises were only thin rings of chestnut-brown. His breathing was too fast.

After a moment Iruka seemed to come to himself, shaking his head and fixing Kakashi with a twisted smile. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Kakashi chuckled, a little surprised at himself. “Just getting into my role.”

Iruka snorted, his face going carefully blank. “That’s what I thought. The question is, are you going to stay here or go back to your futon?”

Kakashi mulled it over. “Hmm, ruin your reputation even more or crawl into a cold, lonely futon in the same room with a nervy information broker.”

Iruka laughed under his breath. “Like I even have a reputation at this point? Tsubaki has no doubt told everyone in the whole building that ‘my man’ came to see me.”

Kakashi chuckled. “You have a point.”

“Actually, I have several, but you won’t need to meet them unless you get too hands-on.” Iruka smirked. “And sleeping here means just that, _sleep_.”

“I think I should be offended at your lack of trust.”

Iruka shot him a sidelong look from under half-lidded eyes. “It’s not you I don’t trust, just your lack of control over your libido.” He smoothed a hand coyly over the front of his yukata. “I know sleeping next to all this will test it to the limits.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a good thing that they had decided on their story about how Suisen and Kenji met before they emerged from Iruka’s room, because as soon as they were out, a veritable flock descended on them, carrying them off to the kitchens for breakfast and teasing questions.

Thankfully they had only been under assault for half an hour before the scruffy man Kakashi had called Mugin wandered into the kitchens, yawning and scrubbing fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, good, there you are. Rytou wants you with him till his meeting this afternoon.” He yawned again before continuing sleepily. “Me, I’m for some food and sleep. Wake me up before the damned meeting so we can both be there to guard his back from shadows.”

Kakashi nodded and took himself out of the kitchen, pausing only briefly to drop a kiss on Iruka’s temple, to a chorus of _‘awws’_ from the rest of the staff.

Iruka extricated himself as gracefully as possible, and went on with his duties, going over his plans over and over in silence.

He was so absorbed in his plans that he almost didn’t notice the woman until she nearly bumped into him. He steadied her automatically.

Pale eyes wide and frightened, she squeaked an apology and bolted away, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor.

With a start, he recognized her as one of Murasaki's servants. “That was weird,” he muttered aloud. It was also the most life he’d seen out of either of them.

~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at three in one of the private dining rooms. Iruka spent an hour with one of the other attendants getting the room ready, sweeping the tatami and placing cushions and trays near one of the glass windows that offered a spectacular view of the mountains that surrounded the onsen. Yuri came in from the kitchen and norred in satisfaction. “Good work, girls. Hinagiku, you finish up in here and build up the fire. Suisen, you have pouring duty, right? Good, go get cleaned up and dressed and then come by the cellar for a bottle.”

Iruka hurried to obey, his heartbeat speeding up as the time to put his plans into action drew closer.

He was showered, dressed, and had gotten a bottle in plenty of time to be in place before Murasaki and his escort entered. He kept his head demurely down but watched them through lowered eyelashes. To his surprise, Murasaki was accompanied by both servants and his mistress, but only two of his guards, one of the genin level bruisers and one of the chuunin. Iruka couldn’t help but find something very wrong with the picture.

They all settled down, Murasaki in the choice seat by the fire and his mistress beside him; the two servants kneeling unobtrusively behind him. The bruiser took station by the door while the other guard took a post by the huge glass windows.

After a moment, Rytou came in, flanked by Kakashi and Mugin. Rytou looked calmer than he had last night, dressed in a somber black tunic with draping sleeves and his hair slicked back from his face. He seated himself on the cushion across from Murasaki calmly, but Iruka noticed his eyes dart quickly to every person in the room.

Yuri and two more attendants brought in food, placing elegant trays in front of Rytou, Murasaki and Yadorigi. After they bowed themselves out, Murasaki signaled Iruka to pour.

Carefully, Iruka poured tiny cups of sake for all three of them, keeping his head down and eyes properly on what he was doing. It wasn’t until after he moved back to his place the Murasaki lifted his cup and spoke. “I understand you have something valuable for me, Rytou-san?” His voice was pleasant, with an edge of someone who expected to be treated like royalty.

Rytou ignored his own cup, in favor of meeting Murasaki’s gaze head on. “Very valuable. There are many men who would pay their own weight in gold for what I have.”

Murasaki’s eyes glittered. “I will assume you have proof. It would not be very valuable without hard evidence backing it up.”

Rytou offered him a thin smile. “Damning evidence written by their own hands.”

Murasaki's smile was victorious. “I would see this proof.”

“Of course.” Rytou waved Mugin forward. 

Mugin set a small wooden box with an intricate lock on the tray next to Rytou’s untouched sake cup. 

Drawing a thin chain from around his neck, Rytou produced a tiny key. He unlocked the box to display several folded letters, some bearing broken wax seals. “Though you will understand that I cannot let you read them until we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“Indeed,” Murasaki’s smile was full of the smug self-satisfaction of a man who knew he had exactly what he wanted within his reach. “So now we get to the part where you tell me your price. Or should I just ask who exactly wrote these oh-so-valuable letters?”

Rytou moved like a striking snake, across the room in between the beat of a heart, a thin blade glinting bright silver in his hand. He held it to Murasaki’s throat and tsked at the two guards. “Too slow,” he chided. “Now don’t move unless you want to see if he can talk with another mouth in his throat.”

Still keeping a wary eye on the guards, Rytou snarled. “You wanted to know my price. Well, let me tell you a little something; my price is the same it’s been for the last four years. I want Miriko back, you bastard!”

Seemingly unphased by the knife at his throat, Murasaki raised an eyebrow. “Miriko... ah, did you mean little Mi-chan here.” He gestured lazily at the servant Iruka had run into earlier. She was on her knees, her eyes wide and full of eerie calm. “That must make you...”

“Hanashi Ryou,” the woman answered for Rytou. “The man I was going to marry before you ruined my family.” The grin she fixed on Murasaki was a snarling rictus, though her eyes were still strangely calm. “He made me a vow that he would help me escape you. And I wrote those letters, detailing everything I ever saw in the four years you made me your slave. There are indeed men who would pay fortunes to learn what I know about you.”

She turned her gaze to the other servant crouched on the floor. “Aki, run. Get away from here. He can’t hold you anymore.” Her eyes darted to Iruka. “You, girl, get her out of here.”

Iruka glanced at Kakashi, who offered him a minute nod. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he helped Aki stagger to her feet.

Hell broke loose in a tinkle of tiny golden bells. Miriko staggered a step back, staring blankly down at the sharpened washizaki embedded under her breastbone, gold bells chiming softly. She fell without a sound other than the clangor of the bells.

Yadorigi danced back a step, hair spilling freely down her back, and spun a thin-bladed knife through the air.

Murasaki caught it and in the same motion, thrust it upward into Rytou’s throat. Choking on his own blood, he tried to slash Murasaki with his blade, but his failing strength betrayed him and he crumpled to the floor.

Iruka froze where he stood, hands clenched on the woman’s arm.

“Feh,” Murasaki kicked the dying body at his feet aside. “Fool.” He turned his attention to Rytou’s two bodyguards, but the air where they had stood was empty.

Iruka blinked. He hadn’t even seen Kakashi move.

Murasaki laughed shortly. “Mercenaries. At least they know when to cut their losses and run.” He stepped over to Yadorigi, and brushed a hand down her cheek. “Well done, my darling.”

She leaned into his touch briefly before bending to pull her washizaki from the corpse at her feet. Holding the bloody spike, she glanced thoughtfully up at Iruka. “And what do we do about this one, Eiji?”

Murasaki picked up the box of letters and shoved it into the hands of the woman Iruka had helped to her feet, “First time I’ve had blackmail on myself,” he chuckled, turning to look Iruka in the eye. He took a coin-pouch from his haori and pulled Iruka’s hand from the woman’s arm, pressing the heavy pouch into Iruka’s palm. “She’ll say nothing, am I right, lovely?” He brushed his fingers through the loose hair over Iruka’s ear.

Iruka didn’t even try to hide his shudder at the fleeting touch. He nodded his head in a frantic imitation of a terrified girl.

“Good girl. After all, it was clearly self-defense. They attacked us first.” Murasaki patted Iruka’s cheek.

Iruka let his knees crumple, falling to the floor and staring up in artfully simulated terror. He blinked rapidly to force his eyes to tear up, nodding and taking short little gasping breaths.

Murasaki smiled down at Iruka and swept out of the room, followed by Yadorigi, Aki and his two security goons.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Kakashi was at Iruka’s side, gripping his bicep. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

Iruka shook his hand off, staring at the two bodies lying crumpled in spreading crimson pools. “I’m fine. However, that bastard is not going to be, when I’m done with him,” he snarled.

He turned a fey smile on Kakashi, having the pleasure of seeing surprised wariness flash in his uncovered eye. “What say we get that information?”

“What are you planning?” Kakashi asked slowly; warily.

Iruka let a slow, vicious grin slide over his face. “I’m not planning anything. However—” He glanced deliberately at the two bodies. “The two vengeful spirits he just created are another matter entirely.”

He turned back to Kakashi. “As you are now free tonight, meet me on the roof at midnight. Time to throw a little scare into the bastard.” He grinned a little too brightly, up into Kakashi’s face. “Now, you have approximately thirty seconds to clear out. Suisen is going to have a screaming fit of the vapors.”

Kakashi nodded and vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared.

Iruka drew in a deep breath and shrieked. It was a wonderful scream, high and loud enough to rouse the entire onsen, and trailing off neatly into hysterical sobs. Iruka was rather proud of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The full moon cast a pallid light over the rooftop. Having shed his own disguise, Kakashi waited for Iruka directly over the kitchens, where the bake-ovens kept him comfortably warm in spite of the bitter autumn chill.

Iruka appeared beside him, silent as a wraith and dressed in form-fitting blacks. He had a black cowl draped loosely around his neck and his dark hair pulled into a tail at the nape of his neck. He grinned, teeth a flash of white in the darkness, and set a small pack on the roof at his feet. “I left a clone sleeping under the watch of one of the other attendants,” he explained quietly. “After a terrific fit of hysterics, I explained that I had left the room to get more sake, and had heard a strange sound from inside before I had even closed the door fully. When I looked back in, the bodies were all I saw. Needless to say, they all think I’ve had a terrible shock and are treating me like I’m made of glass. It made it quite easy to slip out and pick up a few things for tonight.”

He tossed Kakashi a cowl like his. “Cover up that hair.”

Kakshi obligingly put it on, adjusting it over his mask. “So, what exactly are we doing?”

Iruka’s smile was vicious. “I told you, we’re throwing a scare into him... helping out the ghosts a bit. For all he’s a right asshole, he’s got a superstitious side. Always carries luck charms and protections against curses. We keep him paranoid enough and he’ll be jumping at every shadow and having his guards on edge and twitching at every sound. They’ll all be easy prey after that.” Iruka’s laugh was humorless.

“How do you plan on not giving away your game to his security? They’re no jounin, but they should be more than capable of sensing chakra usage.”

Iruka’s laugh was the sharp bark of a fox. “By not using it, of course.” He chuckled darkly. “Follow me and keep your chakra suppressed.”

He shouldered the pack and leapt off the roof with all the grace of a sleek cat, leaving Kakashi to shake his head and follow.

They slipped past the attendants who were still awake without any trouble and paused in the corridor that led to the suite Murasaki had rented.

Eyes sparkling with malicious enjoyment, Iruka turned and flashed a handsign in field code. _Watch!_

From a pouch at his waist, Iruka donned a pair of thin leather gloves and unspooled hair-fine thread that was nearly invisible in the dim light of the single lantern lighting the hall. With a silent warning not to touch the thread, Iruka knotted it into the semblance of a spider-web. He climbed the wall quickly, using only his own strength, and suspended the webbing from the ceiling, leaving a single strand to dangle down the wall. He affixed that across the corridor at knee-height. When he was done he dimmed the lantern, rendering the thread utterly invisible in the darkness.

 _What?_ Kakashi signed.

Iruka turned his face into the lamplight. “Thread dissolves after a second of contact with any chakra, even what’s in your skin,” he mouthed silently. “Tangles them in spider-webs, but leaves no evidence. Simple trick to unnerve people.”

He turned away, flashing the hand-sign for _follow_ and padded back up the hall the way they had come. After a moment, Iruka paused and pointed upwards at the ceiling.

Kakashi squinted; there was a hatch there, so cleverly made as to be near unnoticable.

Iruka crouched and cupped his hands, fingers interlaced.

Kakashi obligingly let Iruka boost him toward the ceiling. His fingers easily found the neatly hidden catch and he opened the hatch silently, pulling himself up into a very narrow crawlspace between the ceiling and the rafters supporting the slate roof. He shuffled around to offer Iruka a hand and found the chunnin already pulling himself up.

Iruka slipped into the narrow space beside him and lowered the hatch back into place, relatching it. With the dim light from the corridor gone, it was as dark as the inside of a cave.

Kakashi heard a muffled snap and a faint blue light slowly began to light the space around him. He turned his head and found Iruka holding a small glowstick in his teeth and offering him one to match. Kakashi accepted it and snapped the capsule to start it glowing.

Iruka grinned around his and started forward into the depths of the claustrophobic space, moving carefully and noiselessly. Kakashi tucked his glow stick into the loop of his cowl and followed. 

At long last Iruka paused and pointed to a tiny vent cut into the wooden slat ceiling. He tucked his glowstick into his pouch and peered down through the vent. Kakashi edged closer so he could look down as well, covering his glowstick with one hand.

A banked fire illuminated the room below faintly, enough to make out the opulent bed that Murasaki and Yadorigi occupied, almost directly below the vent, as well as four occupied pallets near the door. A fifth was rolled up, indication that there was one man taking watch.

Iruka reached into his small satchel and came up with a jar full of live spiders, ranging from no larger than a fingernail to ones the span of an open hand. A few even glowed with a sickly green luminescence. Iruka shook the jar to agitate the spiders and dumped them through the opening quickly. He flicked loose the few that had caught onto the vent and peered down.

A high-pitched shriek was the first indication it had worked. Yadorigi sprang up from the bed, frantically brushing agitated spiders from her sleeping robe. Screaming, she danced around frantically, flinging spiders left and right.

The guard on watch burst in, scrubbing at his face and hair with one hand. It looked like he’d encountered the spider web trap.

Murasaki lit a lantern and roused the others, demanding they eradicate the pests. 

Yadorigi fled to the bath, trailing spiders in her wake and still screaming.

Kakashi could feel Iruka shaking against his side with silent laughter.

The spiders didn’t go quietly, hissing and biting. 

Iruka covered the vent with one hand and pulled out his glowstick, turning to Kakashi with a feral grin. “We wait for them to settle,” he mouthed. “Then comes our next trick.”

It took over an hour for the room below to settle down. Murasaki had to send for a bottle of sake to pry his mistress out of the bath and she was still twitching at every movement.

Iruka shifted beside him and in the faint stripes of light coming up from the room below, Kakashi could see him pulling a waxed paper cone out of his bag. Carefully, he unfolded the end to reveal a pile of dust. Covering his nose with one hand, Iruka blew the dust through the vent. Kakashi couldn’t see it but he could smell it even through his mask. It irritated his sinuses and he had to cover nose and mouth with his hand to keep from betraying himself.

One of the guards started coughing violently, followed quickly by Murasaki. It didn’t take long for the others to start and they all fled to the clearer air of the private bath. While they were gone, Iruka dug out another jar and spilled its contents through the vent. Kakashi caught sight of a squirming gray-white mass that broke apart when it hit the floor, and realized he had dumped maggots in the room.

Murasaki sent a guard back in to see if the air in the room was clear and the man blanched to the color of milk at the sight of the writhing creatures all over the floor.

Eventually, Murasaki convinced his servant to go back into the room and sweep the maggots into the fire. She shook the entire time and Kakashi could see the bruise on her cheek that had been Murasaki’s form of persuasion.

This time Yadorigi could not be convinced to come out of the bath, and Murasaki edged back into the room cautiously, his face betraying barely-hidden fear and a knife clutched in a trembling hand.

A sibilant hiss that sounded like Murasaki’s name came from an empty corner of the room. The servant shrieked in terror and fled back into the dubious safety of the bath.

Murasaki jumped and whirled, eyes darting frantically for the source of the sound.

This time the whispering voice came from another corner.

Murasaki started violently and spun to face the threat.

“You killed me,” another empty corner breathed.

Murasaki turned again, searching frantically for the speaker. His face was pale and shaken.

He never even saw the loop of wire that dropped from the vent over his head.

Iruka jerked sharply backward and Kakashi could hear the sickening snap of bone. Murasaki limply fell, dead of a broken neck.

When the guards timidly ventured out, that was the way they found their master. It did not take a wise man to see the virtue of not being there for blame to be laid upon them. They grabbed their belongings and fled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Iruka elbowed Kakashi and wormed his way backwards, toward the hatch. Kakashi followed, and they slipped silently into the room. Iruka peered into the bath and then froze, opening the door wide.

Aki, the servant woman, was sitting on one of the rocks, arms wrapped around her knees and shaking. 

Yadorigi floated face down in the pool, long hair fanned out around her.

Aki looked up at Iruka, pale blue eyes wide and frightened. “S-she slipped,” she stuttered.

Whether or not that was the truth, Iruka nodded and held out a hand to help her to her feet. He gave her the pouch of money that Murasaki had given him. “Go,” he told her quietly. “Take this and go home.”

She smiled faintly at him, eyes wide and shocky, and fled past Kakashi, crouched over Murasaki’s body.

After making sure the woman in the pool was dead, Iruka returned to his side.

Kakashi looked up at him. “Well, I figured out how he carried his proof into the meetings.” He lifted a sleeve to show black tattoos winding around Murasaki’s arms. “He has these all over his body. They’re like storage scrolls, seal something in them and it remains safely hidden until you summon it again. He kept everything on him... literally.”

Iruka pulled out a storage scroll of his own. “Appropriate that he goes back to Konoha this way, then.” With a touch of blood and a rapid hand sign, Murasaki's body vanished, safely sealed in the scroll for transport home.

He gathered up everything else and stored it in another scroll, while Kakashi went about eradicating any traces of their presence.

An hour later, they were leaping through the leafless trees, headed for home.

“You know,” Kakashi said, a distinct leer in his tone. “Next time we go to an onsen, we should go there for pleasure, not a mission.”

Iruka laughed under his breath and glanced back at Kakashi. “Role-playing is over, Kakashi-san. You don’t have to pretend any more.”

“Who said I was pretending?” Kakashi chuckled, voice full of promise. “I enjoyed that kiss, very much. Who knew you had such a talented mouth, Iruka-sensei? Wonder what else you can do with it beside throw your voice...”

Iruka didn’t look back at him. “Kakashi-san, I don’t know how to throw my voice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Hanakotoba Onsen is named after the Japanese “[language of flowers](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanakotoba).” Each of the attendants names (including Iruka's cover name) is the name of a flower, keeping with the theme of the piece.


End file.
